Taming the Storm (The Storm, #3)

I couldn’t feel any hotter than I do right now.

He releases my hair, letting it spill across my back. His hand moves to my heavy, sensitive breast. He tugs the cup of my bra down and twists my nipple with just the right pressure.

A scream tears out of me.

“That’s it, baby,” he growls. “Scream for me.”

His other hand finds my clit. All the while, he doesn’t lose pace fucking me with controlled thrusts.

“You’re gonna come again, Ly. No less than two times, remember?”

“Yes…yes…” I moan, my body climbing again, reaching for that second orgasm.

“That’s it, baby. Give it to me. Come for me. I need to feel you coming around my cock.”

“Fuck…Tom!” I’m exploding around him, my inner walls tightening, my body and mind spiraling out of control.

“Jesus…” Tom groans. “I’m coming…I’m fucking…fuck!” He slams into me and lets out a sound of pure primal pleasure.

I feel a powerful shudder move through him as his cock starts jerking inside me, spilling everything he has into the condom.

We’re both breathless. And I’m boneless. If it wasn’t for Tom holding me, I’d be on the floor right now.

He leans forward—still inside me, cock semi-erect—and lays his damp hot chest against my back. His arms come around my waist, holding me. He presses a kiss to my shoulder and then one to my neck. “Sexiest woman ever.”

I giggle and turn my face to his. He brushes his lips over mine.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” I murmur.

Feeling the happiest I’ve felt in a long while, I smile the whole time that Tom helps me dress. I laugh when he bangs his head on one of the metal bars, and then I kiss it better when he makes me feel bad for laughing.

I’m still smiling when he opens the door, letting us out.

Closing the door and latching it, he turns to me, taking both of my hands in his. We’re standing here, facing each other, our eyes locked. Then, something passes over Tom’s face, and it settles.

It looks a lot like contentment.

It makes my heart beat faster.

Releasing one of my hands, Tom touches my cheek. “Ly…” He brushes my hair behind my ear. “I’ve been thinking…for a little while now…that maybe we should—”

“There you are!” Shannon’s voice shatters through whatever Tom was about to say.

And the sound of her voice has me jerking away from him, putting clear, safe distance between us.

I see his brow furrow.

Ignoring his frown, I turn to Shannon, wondering if she saw our intimate exchange.

Judging by her expression, I’m going to say no.

Thank God. I don’t want anyone knowing about Tom and me.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you, missy! Cale said that you ripped your shorts and went to change, but I went to the trailer, and you weren’t there. And I know you and clothes, Lyla Summers. You’re not so fucking great at dressing yourself, and I wanted to make sure you put on something appropriate—” She stops mid-rant, eyeing my shorts. “But I see you’re still wearing them.”

She looks between Tom and me. Her eyes run over us and then go to the stage door directly behind us.

I see realization flicker in her gaze.

She grins.

My stomach drops.

“Were you two…” Her grin widens. “Did I interrupt something? Or did you already have sex?”

Shit. People cannot find out about Tom and me. I don’t want people thinking…

What?

What will they think?

They’ll think that I’m another one of Tom’s easy lays. Another dumb chick he’s been screwing. Some small-time singer who’s trying to bang her way to the top.

“We haven’t had sex.” I let out a strangled laugh. “As if I’d have sex with Tom! I mean, he’s a total mut! I do have standards, you know.” The words are out before I can stop them. And I hate myself instantly.

Shannon’s eyes slide to Tom. The changing expression in them has me turning to look at to him.

Whatever Shannon saw on his face is gone when my eyes meet with his. I see nothing there. His eyes are clear, his face perfectly blank.

Tom looks from me to Shannon. “Not that it’s your business, Shan, but we weren’t having sex.” His voice is cold, detached.

I’ve never heard him sound like that before. It sends a chill hurtling through me.

His eyes slide back to me, and that’s when I see it—the cold masking the hurt.

I’ve hurt him.

“Like Lyla said, she has standards. She would never waste her time on a mut like me.” He looks at his watch. “I’ve gotta go.” Then, he walks away.

I start to panic.

“Mut? What the hell are you two talking about?” Shannon laughs and comes over to me, clearly oblivious to what just happened between Tom and me.

I should go after him. Tell him I’m sorry.

But if I do, then Shannon will know that something is going on between us.

What should I do?

Torn by indecision, I stand here, confused

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